Time to Pretend
by Mirae-no-sekai
Summary: It wasn't as if either of them had many other possibilities. Wishing-Fire's 100 theme challenge - ZxN edit.
1. 01 Introduction

A.N. – I think I might be going crazy. So, I've decided to try WishingFire's 100 theme challenge… with the crack pairing I happen to favor. Hope you enjoy, and as per usual, nothing belongs to me.

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><p>Their relationship begun, as most things do, with an introduction. Disinterested faces, weapons drawn and darkness curling around most of the people there.<p>

To her, he was the one that gave her the warmest welcome. The fact that his "weapon" was a book was also calming to her - he couldn't hurt her physically at least.

To him, she was the one that didn't treat him like the boy he was before he ventured too far into the dark. She was the one who admitted she "liked" him the most.

It all begun from there for both of them.


	2. 02 Love

To be fair, neither of them wholly understood love. Or any other emotion, if one was to be more exact. But to the schemer, what he pretended to feel for Naminé was close enough. Maybe it had begun as a ploy – it wasn't like that anymore. He hated then loved to admit… that she was special, in her own quiet way, to him. And thankfully, it was mutual.

So, when she finally gathered up the courage to tell him that she "loved" him, he wasn't that amazed. But it did leave a bittersweet taste when he reflected on the fact that it was alien to both of them.

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><p>A.N. – gah, gone a couple words over… special thanks to Zexiontwo for your review (useful, and you do have a nice fic there . Once again, nothing belongs to me – but hope you enjoyed!<p> 


	3. 03 Hate

If you had no heart, it could be difficult to properly hate someone. Or something, but that came later.

Naminé could've sworn she hated the knife-wielding Nymph when she glided over to her incandescent white prison, pain in her mind. She hated the man of flowers for a similar reason.. Abhorred the fact that she had no heart, for it made all about her just fabrication.

But Zexion made that change. She still loathed the previous things, mind you. But it was easier to bear if he would come here eventually. But she hated that he didn't come here often. He hated that too.


	4. 04 Vacation

Naminé had no fixed vacations. They came and went with her inspiration and her money on hand – thankfully, she was never too short. For now, she was in one of those lazy periods where she would just contemplate the outdoors she loved so much and let her fingers stretch away from the brush.

Naminé also liked viewing her own works in expositions. If she was lucky,_ he'd_ be there too. She stopped in front of one of the paintings – a man with a curtain of slate-colored hair absorbed in a book.

"Miss you so…"

"I _knew_ you'd be here."

The man had stepped out of the painting to greet her.

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><p>A.N. – if I ever manage to go perfectly under the word limit, I'll cheer. On other notes, a try at AU; and many thanks to those who have left reviews (Zexiontwo and Savoring Happiness)<p> 


	5. 05 Growing Up

To him, growing up had meant losing himself in darkness and deceit. Growing up had meant finding a voice again, but it lacked the warmth and substance it once had. At least, he still had some familiar faces (although they were as changed as him). Zexion still had his intellect, and they were going somewhere – or so he thought.

But growing up also brought her into his monochrome life. Naminé was also a living ghost, even though she had no past to haunt. She haunted his present instead.

They both swore that, from there onwards, they'd keep growing up together.


	6. 06 Trouble Brewing

He knew that trouble was waiting in the wings as soon as he stepped into Castle Oblivion. The rogue agents, the rampaging keyblade wielder… and a seemingly harmless girl kept prisoner at the top of the castle.

Under normal circumstances, he would have taken her to be the less worrying target. But when something bloomed between them, a phantom relationship that made Zexion feel just a bit closer to the reality he craved… he let her be the source of his troubles.

That led him to forget about the maverick flame, to meet his own demise. Sometime when he faded, he tried to hope that she'd be all right alone.


	7. 07 First Encounter with an Animal

There were animals in this world. To Naminé, this was a first. Although, she did not expect two dogs to be eating at an 'Italian' restaurant. Much less to be eating what apparently was a 'romantic dinner'. Then again, she was doing the latter with another Nobody, which was by itself an anomaly.

Zexion glanced over at what had caught her eye. And laughed when the pair caught both ends of the same spaghetti and met at the middle. Naminé had turned away and was blushing ever so slightly – _sweet thing_.

"Why the blush? It is not as if we haven't done that before… but, no, we're not falling for the same thing."

_Did she just look let down?_

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><p>A.N. - this was fun to write. Kinda paraphrasing <em>that <em>movie :) Thanks for reading!


	8. 08 First Love

His first love was reading. He'd almost live in the library, only leaving to acquire nourishment and rest.

At first, he had stuck rigorously to science and fairytales. Had moved over to poetry to charm the elusive females to him. Had returned to his old companions after that.

But not alone – a figure in white with him, book in hand. He had begun to read about the arts as well… but that was to get her to lean over his shoulder, her hair brushing his face. His pulse racing in his chest due to the girl.

In a way, he owed the books for Naminé, he guessed.


	9. 09 First Crush

He'd watch her, at times, from the back of the class. The blonde with the sketchbook and a white dress. And she'd be in his mind's eye when he blinked for a second or drifted off into dreamland.

Zexion didn't have the personality for a direct approach. But he'd always be the first to offer her help with an assignment, or leave a flower on her desk, or lend her the best pencil on the case. All to get her to notice him for a moment.

He almost always misses the sketches left as bookmarks on his texts. Of a blond girl and a boy who looks so much like him.

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><p>A.N. – re-done because I hated how the first one turned out ;)<p> 


	10. 010 First Tragedy

Her first "tragic" event had been being captured in Castle Oblivion. The isolation being broken only by bloodthirsty shadows… and Zexion at times. He'd make it seem more bearable, if only for a lost moment. And, if Naminé was to be honest, she'd readily admit to thanking the odd turn of events for allowing her to meet him, even if she had to put up with Larxene's anger or Marluxia's schemes.

No, her first real tragedy was when she realized he faded away into darkness. Had lost the one shot he had at a heart. Because only then had she felt "pain".


	11. 011 Parents

Once upon a time, Zexion had never thought he'd fall in love with a girl, much less be committed to one. Naminé had made him see that he would never remain aloof for that long.

Also once upon a time, neither of them had thought that they (of all couples) would ever be parents. Zexion barely had the idea of one; Naminé was frankly scared out of her wits. They'd often argue, then console the other one after that.

In the end, when Zexion is standing right next to Naminé's bed in the hospital, a warm bundle in her arms, he is grateful that they chose to do this after all.

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><p>A.N. – another try at AU… thanks for all the readsreviews, see you around!


	12. 012 Afraid of the Dark

Naminé didn't know how, but she was afraid of the dark. It had too often brought tormentors over, hidden the far-away corners and blanketed her notepad.

So, when by a stroke of luck it was the illusionist walking out of the portal, book in hand… she tossed herself into his arms.

"I'm scared of the dark" – she whispers.

"Would that mean you are scared of me too?"

"No!"

"Well… I'm part of the dark… it isn't that bad, Naminé"

"Mind staying over here, please?"

She woke up the next 'morning' to see him still sleeping on the desk, his cloak over her like a blanket. The dark wasn't so scary now.


	13. 013 Holding Hands

Zexion would sometimes take her out on trips to other worlds. They were uncommon, but she'd get an opportunity to stretch her legs and observe the surroundings. She'd later on draw them all somewhere, committing them to someone else's memories.

When elsewhere, she'd also watch the people. To her amusement, she'd see many going around, hands held. There was no use to that, and having to weave around the city obstacles became harder. Yet, it was a common way to walk.

"Why do they hold hands?"

"They do because they are a couple."

Soon enough, she'd be drawing everyone holding hands. Or at least, Zexion and herself.


	14. 014 Popcorn

Zexion had a lack of taste for popcorn. They never were sweet all the way through, half of them refused to pop and the small apartment would reek of sugar and butter for a day. They usually meant a long afternoon gone to sappy romances or a mockery of horror and mystery.

However, he'd willingly go through the ordeal of a movie night and popcorn if it meant that while watching yet another film, Naminé would cling to him during nearly an hour. He'd at times mutter lines to her, cite the books. All to keep her here until the film was not boring anymore.


	15. 015 Cookies

Naminé definitely had not expected half of their group to grace her with greetings, compliments and the like. Offers of escorts and walks along worlds as picturesque as her artworks. She had not expected a certain Schemer to trail along the shadows, warding most of the unwanted suitors away from the cookie-laden girl. Out of politeness, she offered him one – as large as her (admittedly small) palm, drops of chocolate peeking out of brown crust.

"An admirable taste – however, I dare say you taste sweeter, Naminé."

Suddenly, the hot plate of cookies didn't feel as warm anymore.

"Another one, Zexion?"

A.N. – Big shout out to: sonicdisney, Mon Mon Candie, Savoring. Happiness and Zexiontwo for their reviews (you cannot imagine how much you've improved a week!) Once again, thanks for reading, hope you have enjoyed!


	16. 016 Memories

In Naminé's line of work, you'd know all about memories. How to trick them, erase them, change them…

Maybe she was vague on the details of how exactly she does it, but she'd probably make you forget she ever told you the secret. Maybe she already did, and made you forget a day or two as well – part of the job, and she apologizes.

However – _his_ memories, she dared not touch. _His_ past was too short, too personal… and the closer she got to present day, the more _she_ featured in them.

She didn't want to risk Zexion forgetting her.


	17. 017 Tower

Zexion had read that princesses were kept captive in towers. Naminé would be no exception to this rule – the pale girl locked at the top of Castle Oblivion, with lightning licking away at the rescuers and flowers choking the small scraps of night sky.

_But_, if Naminé was the princess locked away in a tower… what would he be? Hardly the prince – Zexion was fairly sure he was one of the many obstacles between her and freedom. The villain then…

Princesses didn't _ever_ fall for the villain. But maybe, he fell for her. And hoped that this wasn't like all fairytales.

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><p>A.N. – odd take on the prompt, I guess.<p> 


	18. 018 Stripes

It was not something she liked to dwell on, but every time she saw stripes she thought of book-bound prisoners. A clichéd suit of black and white. Or, in her case, solid white, where the stripes would come and go as they pleased.

Then again, with Zexion's arms looped around her waist, she could almost pretend there was a black stripe on her clothes. And that she didn't mind being his prisoner that much. She didn't realize that, with her pale arms around his shoulders, he was her prisoner as well. And Zexion would prefer it always remained that way.


	19. 019 Stars

The stars glimmered somewhere far away from him. It mattered little, as most things do. But... she was in one of them. The cause of his troubles... and his joys as well. But don't tell anyone that - Zexion wasn't fond of sharing information about Naminé to... well, anyone really.

But on this soon-to-be deserted world... he could afford to tell the stars what he thought of her. A long list of things that he'd never admit he _liked_ about the girl in question.

Soon enough, he ran out of stars. _No surprise there._

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><p><em>A.N. <em>- Clichéd idea... but I got this one sappy mail as a joke, and liked it for the prompt ;) Have a nice day, and thanks for reading/reviewing!


	20. 020 Universe

As a science student, Zexion knew that the universe was vast and made of mostly nothing. And stars here and there as well… but it didn't change that it was mostly empty. Even in that situation, Zexion had enough information to drown himself, lose sleep over.

As a person in love, however… Zexion knew that the universe could be summed up in a blonde girl with a sketchbook held close to her chest. And that he'd never have enough of her, his star…

The whole universe had everything to envy of Naminé… yet both of them were equidistant from him.


	21. 021 Princess

Naminé spent entirely too much time enveloped by fantasies. She dreamt of the pale castle where she was a princess, with (_almost_) no black-cloaked jailors to stalk her every move. A prince to call her own – sometimes it had a crown of brown spikes, but most of the time it was a curtain of midnight slate hair.

Yes, she spent too much time in her royal reveries. And she almost missed the shadow's prince that looked at her from behind a book, wishing for them (_her_) to get a dream come true. Never mind that it never happened at all.


	22. 022 Do not Disturb

Zexion knew better than to disturb Naminé while she was painting. Last time, he had ended up having to clean the whole studio. And he may or may not have had to pose a couple of times for the artist as punishment.

He never learnt though. It was too tempting to watch her giving life to a blank canvas, the color staining her fingers. He fell into the spell of her concentration, the rhythmic motions of her hands….

Wait, was she _really_-

"Naminé, why are we-"

"In the painting? Because I want to, obviously. But…"

How was she to tell it was a surprise for him?


	23. 023 Rejection

The Replica kept shooting glances at the slate haired nobody. If he had any say about it, Zexion wouldn't have long to live. No one who _dared_ take Naminé from him would. But… she was_ happier_ with the illusionist, if he was absolutely honest with himself. The radiant girl, with the man of shadows…

It hurt, that rejection. That she'd pick a stranger over her _best friend_. One of them, at the least. And that she'd be so happy… he should keep her that way, rather than seek her attention alone.

Axel gives him the chance. He ends Zexion… and has to face Naminé's rejection again. It hurt more, if possible.

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><p>A.N. – Drew such a blank for this one… so went absurdly off on the branches. Sorry! On other news, no updates over the weekend (national holidays ftw :), thanks for your reads and reviews!<p> 


	24. 024 Fear

She glances at the small streaks of red on her arms. Lets her gaze wander over to the gloved hand that is casting healing spells all over her. Zexion has her in his arms, ghosting kisses on the small wounds that the Cure spell has not taken care of yet. Naminé wonders why he cannot leave marks on her as easy as the blades can…

But it might draw the Nymph's attention. And she fears his disappearance more than her jailor, because she'll always pull through…

Then again, he _always_ tells her to not fear for him….

The day she does, he doesn't come over.

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><p><em>A.N.<em> – in other news: missed writing (who would've thought it…) and reading fics through a cell phone is _hard_. Re-did chapter 9, read it if you wish…

**_And thanks a lot for the reviews!_**


	25. 025 Puzzle

Vexen rarely had to deal with puzzles. Zexion's vanishing acts were a small one – he'd go off to who knows where, and return with a bit more information… and something off about him. A half-gone smile or a faint dusting of a blush along his face. Nothing he cared about, but would he ever stop disappearing? The Replica project can't advance without someone to piece it together…

Only when the Riku Replica (who was his work alone, mind you) asked if it was alright to kill Zexion (apparently for being around Naminé, of all people) did the puzzle begin to fall together.

For the time being… "No, you can't kill him. He still has to clean the laboratory."


	26. 026 Hunger

If it came to it, he could live off scraps. Use a couple sleights of hand and tricks of the eye to barely manage going through another day. Hunger was a usual companion – day in, and the other day in as well.

But Zexion would rather go hungry, than have to see her broken and leaf-thin again. Than have to go for one lone day without her smile and a whispered 'thanks'. Would rather feel hungry than see her gone…

He was really hungry for Naminé's presence. She'd be his sustenance, the blonde with the sky's eyes. No void in either of them.

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><p>A.N. - AU's are growing on me... thanks for reading!<p> 


	27. 027 Fast Food

As a price for being caught spying on her art-creating… Zexion had to take her on a date. A fast-food date, just because. Even if Naminé wasn't that fond of the food; since the aim was to unnerve him, the locale was _perfect_.

And also… she liked seeing him on edge. Or as far as he'd go: half-glaring at passersby who'd let their eyes linger for a second too long on her, taking one of her hands on his constantly and keeping her flush against him…

She kissed him, silently laughing at the fact that he didn't shy away. _So much for loosening up…_


	28. 028 Horror

She tiptoes through the entrance to the house of horrors, clinging desperately to someone's hand. Right now, it could be whoever. So long as she doesn't have to go through this alone…

Wait. _No one was wearing gloves…_

Naminé's gaze moved up the hand, up the arm… into a face half-cloaked by shadows and a fringe of blue.

"Hello."

She'll be honest: at least he stays with her while the rest of the group keeps striding forwards through the snares and scares.

A couple of days later, there are two new specters in the house of horrors – her and him.


	29. 029 Jigsaw

To his annoyance, Naminé was fond of physical contact. Or maybe, she had picked up the trait from Larxene. Right now, it was secondary. Because Naminé was looping her arms around him, taking time to interlace their fingers. By now, escaping had stopped concerning him.

For once, rather than asking him about anything or leaning just a bit closer… she kept staring at their hands. Black and almost-white. No spaces between them… not that he'd allow them.

"They fit like jigsaw pieces…"

Zexion twisted over, to see her straight in the eyes. Was she truly that amused by such a simple thing?

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><p><em>A.N.<em> – okay, **big** shout-out now (mostly because I just finished figuring out a couple of stats – had no idea you could see them…) :

_grimoireheart_, _satheroth335_, _thedoggydog2_ , _Savoring Happiness_, _Jane St. Valentine_ and _xxxkingdomheartsoraxxx_ for having the fic in alert/faves! You guys are awesome :) Also, thanks as always to all who read and review – you make the world go round. See you around!


	30. 030 Photograph

"Is that dad?"

The child points at a photograph of a slate-haired man, a surprised expression on his face.

"Yes he is."

"Why does he look funny?"

Because he had been pulled into place by the waif in white. Because he almost dropped the ring into the background… because he preferred her drawings to the lens of a camera…

"Just because. "

She wants to trace his half-smile on the faded paper. Wants to have him gazing at the child he resembles _so much_, and have his arms around her like in the image…

Instead, she turns the page again.


	31. 031 Forgotten

Of all things to have forgotten… Naminé couldn't believe she had left her sketch pad somewhere else. Or even, if she had taken it somewhere else. No matter – her mission was to find it, and quick.

She checked the places she had been up and down. Nosed around every single white corner…

Only to find it back in her room. Funny, it hadn't been there before…

That wasn't there before either. A drawing, of a girl who looked like her, and a boy in a black cloak. A small line – 'You probably can draw this better'.

Zexion received a similar sketch later… 'Yes I can.'


	32. 032 Wish

All Nobodies had the same wish. Getting back their hearts – whether they wore a black cloak, a simple dress or writhed in defiance of gravity.

But two of them had an additional wish. Zexion would quietly wish that she got her own heart and the freedom she longed for. Naminé drew into paper a heart for a slate-haired person standing at her side.

Certainly, it was uncommon for those who couldn't care. However, to the pair of them… it was the only way their wishes could truly work… because neither of them could bear a true heartbreak.

Naminé learns how _that_ feels.


	33. 033 Come Back

If you were Naminé, you would have seen many 'people' come and go from your side. Some of them, she was glad to see leave. But there were two special cases.

The Replica left her with an odd sensation, faded regret lurking at the corner of her mind. Then again, she didn't mind his leaving the white alcove.

Zexion was an entirely different matter. He'd come less frequently… but she'd use anything to keep him by her side, his words chasing the silence away.

And he is the only person who has heard her whisper under her breath "Come back."


	34. 034 Where did they go?

Naminé woke up to find a cold space besides her on the bed. Too drowsy to be physically stunned, her mind drove itself around in circles, chanting "Where did they go?" like a hysterical mantra.

A breeze of laughter drifts in, followed by the muted push of steps. Two pairs of arms wrap around her, a crude drawing fluttering down to her lap.

From behind a curtain of slate hair, a pair of lips presses against her forehead with a murmured 'Happy birthday', before retreating to be fully within sight.

She smiles out, taking all of her family in her eyes.

"What a nice drawing, sweetie!"


	35. 035 Adventure

The brave warrior strode through the looming metal forests, the twinkling spire of the maiden's tower a golden beacon in the distance…

A slight scribbling keeps the adventure alive, a brush giving the knight a substance. But the man has no steed, only an egg-like carriage, and the girl is busy sending off paint-soaked images to the people in her domain.

Soon enough, Zexion opens the door to the studio, a couple of books in hand…

Naminé drops the brush and shakes the books loose. Today, they were not keeping themselves penned up in some secret adventure.

Her random acts as a 'young couple' kept him from fading off, after all.


	36. 036 Father Figure

A.N. – gaaaaah, the prompt… this means I drew a blank people, so I apologize for this piece, as I really don't like it quite that much.

Sometimes, it'll be Vexen being dragged to guard her amidst protests and experiment results. It's _luckily_ uncommon for that to happen, but happen it does.

Naminé finds it odd that the scientist is as close to a 'father figure' to both the Replica and the Schemer. But he fits in a way: certainly, the cold attitude and analytical nature were pressed into both of them, Zexion most of all.

"So, Naminé – you are the one that distracts my experiment and my assistant from their duties."

She jumps in her seat, nodding. The drawling rant that follows is dull, broken only when Zexion is pulled in as a relay. She is thankful for_ that_.


	37. 037 Stranger

Naminé liked painting strangers walking down on the world below, swallowed by the tide of rush hour and urgent works. But a _particular_ stranger, with blue-grey bangs shading his face, was her favorite target for the canvases that would later be surrounded by a sea of paint and interested people.

The reason for it was his odd looks, the way he'd curtly greet those he worked with. The fact that he_ still_ carried around books, when there were much more modern ways.

So, she is disappointed when_ Zexion_ ceases to be a stranger to her. But she switches to painting couples, so it's no big deal.


	38. 038 Technology

Naminé was so accustomed to seeing Zexion with the thick tome that, when he strode into her room with a sleek silver _item_, she thought it wasn't quite him.

Considering that Vexen had the technology for replicas, and one of her 'best friends' was one… well, it wasn't so outlandish a thought. But, after a small time of work and conversation, she was quite assured it _was_ her Schemer.

Naminé still _had_ to try using the computer (or so he'd called it) – only to get it swallowed by darkness and a blush on Zexion's face.

What went through his mind was, for reference:

"_She almost clicked the… private… bits of data in there…"_

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><p><em>A.N.<em> – who else thinks that trying to use a laptop as a weapon is just _a bit more useless_ than trying to use a dictionary? The latter won't break in an instant, at least…

Anyhow, thanks for reading and reviewing!


	39. 039 Magic

All of the castle's denizens knew that Zexion was highly skilled with magic. Twisting sights, deleting worlds and razing minds at the blink of an eye or the turn of a page.

To another degree, and in her own way, Naminé was also proficient with magic itself. Only her private version of memory sorcery; never hers to solely control, pulled by the other Nobodies to suit their needs and whims.

Yet she could weave spells that Zexion never thought he could. A small time of enchantment that solely she possessed…

She made him smile. Seek her out.

That made her better at magic than him.


	40. 040 Siblings

Zexion guessed he could twist and turn around data enough to make them siblings. Naminé and the Replica. He'd be the elder brother, overprotective and wary – no one would harm or even see the younger sibling without his consent or grace.

Just perfect, then, that Zexion was exactly no one. And a very sly one at that, with the shadows covering his steps and words to open all doors. Just perfect, that Naminé could charm the skies to her wills, as smaller sisters do…

But careful, carefully sneak around to see her. It doesn't do to have a vengeful brother on your tail. Or to get her doorways barred by suspicious 'parents'…

A.N. – 40th chapter! I'm… actually feeling great about this – didn't expect to get this far…

Though, most of that credit goes to you people who read and review (you know who you are, dream-makers ;) That said, keep the world moving by reading/reviewing as previously, and hope you enjoy!


	41. 041 Girl Next Door

Castle Oblivion's floor plans were random – or at least, random enough to allow Larxene's and Naminé's dormitories to lay side by side.

While the Nymph was both astounded and amused by this: the existence of another room for the witchling… her visitors were prime blackmail material. Sure, the Replica was expected; hovering around the young girl like a guardian.

But Zexion? He was another case entirely – not-quite frequent visits… staying through arbitrary nights…

It was almost enough to send her giggling around, searching for a certain living mannequin to hound him out…

But gossiping and blackmailing are the privileges of a girl-next-door; and she could really use a favor or two, could she?


	42. 042 Amusement Park

Whoever had the bright idea of dragging Zexion over to an amusement park was in for a trip through nightmares. Once he managed to shake off the vertigo from the endless speed rides, or shook off the lingering remnants of a screech from his throat.

Naminé being by his side was supposed to have alleviated this somewhat. But _no,_ the girl was apparently a banshee of yore; bent on dragging souls to a high-speed inferno with a 'lovely' laugh… still, he clinged to her like it was his one last hope. Refused to let go after the ride was over even...

They both decided to gang up on whoever had sent them here when the next attraction was romantic; _after_ they managed to disentangle themselves from each other.

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><p>A.N. - my sincere apologies for the update skip: I blame history proyects! That aside... hope you enjoyed :)<p> 


	43. 043 Fighting for what's right

In no way was Zexion really fighting for what was right. He 'aimed to misbehave'; deceive, exhort, maim, wound, steal and kill for a heart. All to be able to feel the guilt and glee of it all.

Still… if in any way he could get the same for Naminé – to give her the pain and pleasure of a day, a meaning to the vapid drawings that painted the white walls in faded shades…

He_ did_ get some extra hearts – lying about his aims:

"I'm getting a heart for a _very special girl_…"

It 'hurt' when it lost the lies.


	44. 044 Fire

Naminé watched the fire crackle tame on the curling paper. It was swallowing itself up, a real thing licking off the paper edges, blurring the lines in heat and sparks.

Old sketches eaten up… no, not that one! A hand darts to grab off the charred page, black rising into more black and a face, half swallowed by clingy smoke and traces of a blue pencil.

Zexion later finds her gently trying to fix a burnt drawing up. The slow lines of silver and blue have given way to the quick fingers of flame.

Knowingly, he warps it a bit with magic – she sees it now restored. It won't last… but she'll forget soon anyways.


	45. 045 Soup

The kitchen is a disaster of untold proportions, and the chef (as proclaimed by a lop-sided white hat) is slowly chopping vegetables and adding salt and spices to the soup. Meanwhile, a somewhat amused Zexion looked on, assisting with the more delicate tasks – namely, everything else.

Yet, the chaos is worth it when he sees the child's face light up and a steaming plate of soup declared ready. Swiftly becomes priceless when the bed-ridden blonde received the 'tasty' medicine, with a soft smile and raspy thanks.

"You really should let him cook more often – I feel better already!"

He has to agree, when later on it is him in the same position.


	46. 046 Summer

As an unwritten rule, anyone in Organization XIII hated summer as much as they could. It made their cloak unwieldy, and blending in became a hassle to rival meddling in the darkness.

However, Zexion could stand summer so long as it was at Naminé's side. Just to watch her frolic around with no care, to share ice-creams or take her swimming somewhere.

Although, the last under careful watch: he didn't want to risk an accident… or someone else catching her blue eyes…

The look on their faces is priceless when they realize that white is as unpractical as black in summer.


	47. 047 Christmas

The only thing Naminé had picked up of Christmas was something called mistletoe – and only because Larxene had wreathed the castle in it to annoy her co-workers. The Replica, also aware of what it meant, was _ecstatic_. He'd stroll in at every opportunity, taking his reward with a smile.

Zexion, however, wasn't thrilled. She later learnt he had to sneak through the castle to avoid others, halt his experiments…

And finding Naminé still stunned by a leaving Replica must have pushed him over. Which is why she _later_ learnt of his misadventures; still standing under the mistletoe some minutes later with a breathless look on her face.

* * *

><p><em>A.N.<em> - have _fun_ thinking **what happened** - whatever you think will probably trump what I could write ;) _Once more_, thanks for reading, nothing at all belongs to me save the drabbles themselves and hope you've enjoyed!


	48. 048 Halloween

_A.N._ – this is Halloween, na na na na na na… not _really_, but finding it funny that Christmas and Halloween are consecutive prompts here! Hey – first one I'm not actually fitting the word in… context counts, I hope.

There was a little scientist running around the house in defiance of most laboratory rules. There was a blonde witch behind him, a basket dripping with small candies leaving a trail behind them as they escaped the house in a flurry. A man with slate hair was chasing them, waving a paintbrush in the air.

The witch returned later, leaves stuck to her hair and a lollipop held out in what would have been a kind gesture were it not for the grin on her face.

"What is it about my _job_ you find so scary, Naminé?"

"I wouldn't know… but why are you dressed as an artist anyways?"


	49. 049 Strawberry

Strawberries were the only ones who wore their seeds close to the surface. The thing that they should keep safe above all else was in plain sight on their scarlet heart-shaped bodies…

Zexion would suppose Naminé would be a bit like them. She wore what passed for a heart on what (didn't) pass for sleeves of her dress. Sweet Naminé, with a half-smile enough to undo plans and send for worlds of suitors.

Then again, the small unassuming bushes did take over all around him…

Well, Zexion assumed many things. In any case, she'd like these – maybe he'd get _something_ in return.

_A.N._ – the prompt is sending me a message: "Come back down from… wherever you are, actually". Yes, I went off on _every possible branch_ here – my most sincere apologies, but the blankness was… well, I didn't know how to fit this one in at all.

And the fact is, so far as I've checked, true by the way ;)


	50. 050 Candy

Sugar-coating things was something Zexion was not prone to do. As a Nobody, with nothing to hurt by bare truths… making candies out of facts and weaving sweet cotton lies was simply a waste of time and effort.

It had begun that way with Naminé – all he said was as Zexion said it was, which… well, it was valid in a way. Until both of them begun to show something beneath the cordial conversations or the greetings.

Saying to Naminé outright that now he was a bit closer to danger was something Zexion would prefer to avoid… for her sake. His too, if he was to admit it.

He gave her only candied lies and bittersweet 'I love you's now.


	51. 051 Library

Naminé honestly thought that Zexion had to be bodily dragged from the library he inhabited.

Naminé was right in that account. Books had been most of his once-life: the weight of endless memories had assured that they would remain in Zexion's current state.

She didn't expect the reason why, until it was him leading Naminé over to the tome's domain. Until it was Zexion pulling out a book (world) to her, curling around wherever she had chosen to perch and lull Naminé into his not-embrace.

Naminé didn't notice that next time, they had to drag them both out from there.


	52. 052 Fly

Upon reching Neverland, Zexion realized that he'd need more reach than what simple leaps or climbing could give him. And it was not as if he would go around engaging in such banal activities anyways – let the others exert themselves physically.

When flying was dependant on emotions, of all things: Zexion nearly called it. How to fly, without a heart to lead yourself to the sky-

Naminé would know, wouldn't she? Naminé, caged in a star with invisible wings beating against his arms, wanting to hold her near…

Zexion missed the fact that his feet were off the ground then.

* * *

><p>A.N. – I had less trouble writing this prompt out that the previous one, it figures. That aside: you readers are made of concentrated awesome – go keep the world spinning!<p> 


	53. 053 Movie

They all lived in a movie. A calculated _everything_ – the pose, the expression, a word here and a sneaky glance at nonexistent cameras there.

Whatever did those cameras capture, anyways? There only were nothing-shadows stalking around the blank castle. A splash of color with a blade soaring through…

Oh, yes. Those almost _extras_, where the shadow-people would take a break, and relax into almost-natural actions. A puzzle, sinking into books or drawing the storyboard for some other film…

And that couple – the ghost girl with the slate-haired boy from downstairs. Naminé and Zexion…

Won't it be just amusing to watch the credits roll at the end?


	54. 054 Afraid

There was very little Zexion feared. Death, disorder and the like – but never enough to be paralyzed. _Fears were mostly irrational after all._

That mantra is of no aid when Naminé isn't in her studio – a blank canvas left abandoned, a streak of color ripping through its body. Or when he gets a phone call; something about 'hospital' and Zexion is tearing through the city.

That fear doesn't abate when he is led from room to room, medical babble rattling his ears…

Naminé – later on, a hand over a steadily rounding belly – would never believe _Zexion_ was really afraid.

Or at least, not like nowadays – with him making sure she alright every minute or so. _Calm down, please…_


	55. 055 Death

Death was a constant companion. Or, to be more precise:

_Everyone counted themselves as 'dead' within Castle Oblivion._ Because,_ really_ – if they didn't truly exist, being dead was just a formality. A lesser state, an (un)life they had transcended.

Which, to Naminé… made little sense. Vows of love and memories couldn't be made while far from life. Much less kept and renewed.

But Zexion could, and at times _did_, do exactly that. State almost side-by-side with a new theory that she was… well, not 'his beloved', but _close enough_.

So, even with true death close, neither of them cared – they hadn't finished fading yet. Although, Naminé hoped she could chase off the ghost with a scythe _this_ time around…

* * *

><p>A.N. – I hope I'm not the only one who thinks that Marluxia could do a decent impersonation of the skeleton-with-a-scythe Death ;) Thanks for reading, and reviews are appreciated.<p>

See you around!


	56. 056 Frozen

Zexion was always frozen, Naminé thought. He'd rarely react with anything more than a greeting, a long sting of a theory…

Or simply cease moving altogether. But that was only when Naminé would, dare she say it, come close to him. Trace a pale finger across the blue fringe, or interlace their fingers.

No one else would ever let her do that. Naminé didn't think that Zexion _really_ allowed it, but…

Even with this, it still amazes her when he _moves_ all of a sudden. To mirror back the simple action of taking her hand-

He wasn't frozen anymore – maybe even warming up.

Maybe, he'd stay like this.


	57. 057 Speechless

Larxene liked bickering with the other members stationed at Castle Oblivion. Of course, she always had a back-up plan or two in case they got too smart for their own good.

Zexion was probably in for one of those right now – the almost lulling rhythm of his voice not-quite masking an escape.

"Well, so anyways – why would you be meddling around with Naminé anyways? She wouldn't be one of your little guinea pigs…?"

The effect is just what Larxene wanted – a speechless Schemer, a blush threatening to race across what she can see of his face.

It almost makes the later nightmare-illusions bearable.


	58. 058 Alone

Zexion was _rarely_ alone. He could count with Lexaeus still standing near, or Vexen's near-constant bickering, or the Replica's silent rage…

So Zexion came to appreciate the small bubbles of loneliness, to fade the outside worlds within a book's pages or elaborate even _more_ back-up plans.

He couldn't quite say it _all_ changed with Naminé, mind you. Zexion would still lurk around the lower reaches of the castle, sneaking across the welcoming shadows…

But more often than not, it would be Zexion stealing _upwards_, to lessen someone else's loneliness. And only Naminé would dare doubt the veracity of that statement.

* * *

><p>A.N. – I really can't thank you guys sufficiently for all the reads, and letting this fic hit the 100 review mark. *hands out virtual cookies to everyone*<p> 


	59. 059 Door

Zexion had become something of an expert with those 'imaginary' doors – those that kept the fears at bay, or restrained the warm waves of a lovesick heart. It came with the job he thought: maybe not with a bladed key, but lilting words and enough of a faked smile.

And yet, for all the fabricated words of courage and general derision at faking shyness that was no longer there…

The white door to the one girl who'd trace a dash of forgotten memories across what passed for Zexion right now remained as closed as ever.

Behind it, Naminé tried scribbling a heart into white again, willing it into the person across the staring door.


	60. 060 Study

Ienzo had spent all of his life studying, which meant that Zexion would logically inherit that trait. As to what the study was _about_…

Various sciences and darkness and licks to finish an ice-cream bar. Battle plans, magic spells and how to talk your way in or out of anything.

Ienzo had, once upon a time, fallen for a little girl – and her name had blazed for a moment across texts and hours of study. Zexion got to actually be with his own 'beloved'…

And focused on studying about the way to get a heart or two, and learning to sketch. It was a pity that he'd have to just learn about it now.


	61. 061 Battlefield

Naminé had no trouble picturing the whole castle as a battlefield, with a side cloaked in black and the other donning all the colors in her pocket rainbow.

Although, she didn't expect that so _many_ would be, in a way, fighting for her. The hero and her 'best friend' and…

Well, Zexion was never _supposed_ to be a player in this. But now, Naminé would rather he not fall in the battlefield. Maybe, she was even taking _his_ side, trying to draw him into another page…

But battlefields were out of her control. Naminé had to make do with only the memories.

* * *

><p>A.N. – whoop de do! 2500 views… you guys all deserve a round of applause :) Thanks yet again for the reads, and extra thanks to <em>Savoring. Happiness<em> for the reviews!


	62. 062 Cold

Zexion didn't know how Naminé coped with the cold. Half the members stationed there shivered under the enveloping cloaks, and she just remained perched on her throne in a flimsy white dress.

So, following some lost memories, Zexion would lend her his own cloak at times, wrapping his arms around himself in a vain attempt to lock some warmth down…

When Zexion finds himself within Naminé's embrace, the cloak draped over them, he finds out the castle isn't as cold anymore for the moment – or that there should be a heartbeat somewhere.

As far as Naminé cares, she is amazed that Zexion can really be warm at times.


	63. 063 Puberty

_A.N._ – just what are you _supposed_ to do with this prompt, really….

Ienzo still had to deal with the changes the shadows had brought him. Which was why Zexion would still be amused at the sound of his voice, or keep his eyes trained on Naminé-

He'll take back the last statement, thanks. Zexion had no particular interest in Naminé, despite the fact that her smile played across closed eyes or the slight sleep loss over-

Zexion just decided that, for this one thing…

Ienzo's 'changes' were almost worth the lack of heart. _Not really_, when it brought some lost feeling back, even if it was just a pang of misunderstood 'love'.


	64. o64 Look Alike

Naminé had a sort of obsession with making things look just like their real counterparts. Maybe the effect was difficult to achieve with simple pencils…

Zexion had it down to an art. A wave of his hand, and there'd be a replica of some world for Naminé to see, or some sight to share. Yet Zexion was willing (at times) to overlook missed details in Naminé's creations.

Because the smiles, the not-quite-feelings – they are almost perfect facsimiles.

And that was as close to what they were looking for – sharing a heart between the two.

Even if it's just a likeness.


	65. 065 Random

Naminé was fairly sure that making the change from existence to a bit less than none was random. Else, why would she be here?

Zexion had checked enough data to make sure that at least in part; surviving the dark was a random process. The young boy would have had little strength to make it through without a stroke (or _many_) of luck.

Yet it was that randomness that brought them together.

And, by now, neither of them can even _pretend_ to care about it.

Surely, some guy had made a bet out of this…

Well, both Nobodies like to say it _won_.


	66. 066 Mentor

A mentor was supposed to be a respected figure – someone with obvious knowledge and (allegedly) endless patience.

Zexion was supposed to be doing this – weaving the theories and letting someone walk away knowing a bit more about their world.

But with Naminé's hand wrapped around his, teaching him how to draw anything into existence, or that life is more than simple numbers and data…

Maybe Zexion doesn't mind being the student for once, when the girl tries to give him feeling.

He still gets the last laugh, when Zexion tries to teach Naminé how to function out of her studio…

Until she kisses him.

Zexion still can't figure out that.


	67. 067 Skilled

There were many ways to be skilled. Naminé had seen Luxord shuffle cards in ways that didn't seem possible, or tried to figure out how Lexaeus managed the tiny metal puzzles.

But she had them all beat with her very own skill – Naminé had managed to almost-perfectly counterfeit emotions. Certainly, Sora had fallen for her trick…

Not to mention Zexion, who would still call Naminé out on the times she pretended. But only when things got almost serious…

Such as the time that Naminé forgot that the emotions weren't _really_ there, and therefore the 'I love you' was _only_ empty.


	68. 068 Swordsman

Replica never thought that his skill as a swordsman was something to be proud of – the original was probably better at it that Replica was…

Until he caught sight of Zexion trying to duplicate his movements after Naminé had praised Replica for his ability. That alone made being a mere swordsman much better – watching Zexion_ fail_ at one of the things that Naminé liked…

Zexion was a fast learner though. Still, Replica had a problem with letting Zexion win in the end.

And it was never as if either swordsman ever fought with honor here. At least, it was_ really _Replica striking him down, instead of an illusion.


	69. 069 War

Naminé had yet to realize that the Castle was in the middle of a war zone. Maybe with no real casualties – okay, many and many Dusks had fallen to keep her captive, and she respected (if outright disliked) their sacrifice.

And Naminé, isolated from most of the war via blackmail-art and memory-propaganda, almost but not quite managed to miss the casualties that most affected her.

No, not all had to do with her freedom – though Naminé was thankful for rescue from vines and lightning.

It was losing the illusions – or more accurately, the man behind them…

There'd be no goodbyes for Zexion once she left Oblivion, although she would have liked to try.


	70. 070 Light

Zexion was completely, absolutely sure that they were all darkness's beings. Living shadows and any other unsuitably poetic terms.

Make that all but Naminé, who almost managed to keep some light to herself, or even shyly share some of the radiance (Zexion would swear that it was the reason behind the smiles hidden behind his fringe or the multiple escapades).

There is still some resentment towards the light – stolen light, faraway light, and the way it would play tricks by making Naminé fade just a little bit more into the background.

Zexion didn't think light would love to take _all _he cared for away.


	71. 071 Animal

Zexion used to have a problem with animals – too dirty, allergies and the hassle of taking care of them.

But between Naminé's and his child's 'puppy eyes'… he had to give in.

The somewhat large dog licked at his outstretched palm, while a little kid standing in awe behind Zexion tried to get close enough to test just how fluffy the white-gold fur was. Naminé was just trying to cram them all into her old camera's frame, for once amazed at the lack of a frown on Zexion's face.

Maybe having an animal wasn't that bad an idea after all.


	72. 072 Shopping

Naminé wasn't fond of shopping, per se. Too many things cluttering up space, and it was just pointless of her to stare at the simple trinkets that would just not give her a heart back.

But, you see, shopping meant off-world, meant being around (relatively) alone with Zexion.

That was the charm that got her mildly liking the mindless walks along boulevards and avenues under the guise of analysing the looks of a world. And maybe, just maybe, some stall sold a pair of hearts of the non-trinket variety.

Naminé would like that to happen.


	73. 073 Sleeping

Naminé is now stuck watching Sora sleep, and stuck drawing memories once again…

But she will replace the sleeping figure within the crystal in her mind's eye many times. Not really, mind you: if Naminé draws memories, at times she also draws her own.

And she still remembers the couple of times she saw Zexion sleeping, without a frown on his face and the stubborn fringe falling from his closed eyes.

Naminé doesn't like watching Sora sleep too much – she knows that he won't smile on seeing Naminé there.

Zexion didn't do it either, but she liked being there to be the first to say hello.


	74. 074 Milk

It takes ages to fix a little kid's night-time milk just right, to get him to close his eyes and fall asleep without a hitch.

Naminé took long enough to figure out why – it also takes a story and a kiss goodnight…

And later on, repeating it all to a tired Zexion who barely gets to see the sleeping child and stroking his mess of hair with a muted 'hello, sleep well'.

It's not uncommon for her to fix up another glass of milk, and almost repeat the routine for a complaining Zexion…

Naminé tends to cut it off at 'kiss'.


	75. 075 Maniac

There were many ways to be a maniac, Naminé realized. Vexen's rank obsession, Larxene's taunting, Replica's over-protectiveness…

Zexion and his almost need for greetings. It got on her nerves, drove her up the neat white walls more times than Naminé could count. But, then again… it was an odd way of stating reality. A message and a recipient – the easiest way to prove that yes, both of them existed in this moment.

It was also how Naminé made him 'emote' – a smile or a deeper frown. And she liked being greeted, even if it was just another of the Castle's manias.


	76. 076 Kleptomaniac

Their pseudo-lives were an exercise in kleptomania. Steal _all_ the hearts; leave a calling card for the keyblade cop and blend into yet more shadows to make away with more scintillating emotions.

Zexion was no exception to this pattern – he'd charm their lives away into the dark and the lull of his voice all to get back that steady rhythm in his chest…

And Zexion couldn't figure out how _Naminé_ had managed to steal his thoughts and the small void that should have beat fast from him, like he had managed with so many victims.

_Ah well – double the quota._


	77. 077 I Don't Know How

Naminé maybe didn't know how to do many things – standing up to Larxene, not hurting Sora so much…

Zexion also didn't know how to do certain things: for his own convenience, he'll refrain from listing them, but…

Neither of them knows how exactly they bonded together. Or why it's harder than usual to accept that, at the end of the day, there really is nothing between them save common courtesies and mutual boredom.

Yet they both know that they don't know how to stop seeking each other's company, and that really, they both prefer to be together for a moment.


	78. 078 Writing

The little child was never that great at writing – though not for lack of trying. Minuscule hands maneuvering an unwieldy pencil in haphazard curves and the mind of a fairly ditzy two-year-old…

Naminé wishes she had Zexion's knack of reading any kind of writing, and not be confused by the loving scribbles that somehow _might_ resemble a name if she squints her eyes _just_ right.

But Zexion _isn't_ here, and Naminé will just have to make do with a smile and an inquiring look…

_Oh, there's a picture down there-_

Maybe the writing isn't clear, but the trio in the picture…

"I miss your dad as well."

* * *

><p>A.N. – late updates, I know, and I'm absolutely sorry. Anyhow, thanks for reading and sticking around for so long - *hugs*.<p> 


	79. 079 Mermaid

The thing about mermaids that every superstitious buffoon knew was that, despite their beauty and heavenly voice, they were a direct spawn from some watery hell.

The thing about mermaids that Zexion knew was that they were just an excuse for mysterious deaths and the haze of alcohol…

But the effects they had? Oh, was _anything_ as real as an otherworldly lethal allure?

The answer was_ yes_, by the way. A glance from deep blue eyes, or the slow wave of a faded hand, or the quiet greetings…

Naminé was a not-real mermaid, without the ridiculous tail.

And there was a _very good_ reason that the prey would risk all for them.


	80. 080 Fireworks

Naminé, as any city-dweller, was accustomed to the bright lights and far-off rumbles of a fireworks display. Hey, she had even managed to catch the light-blooms mid-air via creative camera shots and dabs of paint…

Naminé isn't aware that the fireworks going off behind closed eyes can feel this way, the tingling energy racing through her skin and blinking through midnight-colored hair.

But, right now, Zexion is just too close and Naminé is sinking down into fireworks and the feel of his lips or the way he holds her near.

She wants to know if he's feeling the same thing.

* * *

><p>A.N. – mind if I ask you, this one time, to leave a review and tell me how this one went? Pretty please? And very many thanks for the reads – you guys are incredible!<p> 


	81. 081 Tonight

Tonight, Naminé was finally out of her prison. Tonight, she was going to simply walk around unhindered, take in the usual lack of sights-

Ever so non-casually stumble right into Zexion, stuck in some other duty around the castle.

Tonight, Naminé planned to have Zexion sneak her out of the castle – between both of them, they'd be safe and there'd be no more threats and memory-drawings.

Tonight, that plan failed. The escape only went as far as another illusion back in Naminé's quarters and falling asleep wrapped in Zexion's cloak.

Well, at least it wasn't a _complete_ failure for her.


	82. 082 Me and You

'Me and you' – an alien concept for Nobodies, where deceit and treason were ever-present entities and hearts shone for their absence.

'Me _and_ you' – what was playing in loops in Zexion's mind, Naminé close and with that smile of hers, hands maybe linked and just existing together for a change.

It was beyond comprehension, beyond study and it was distracting. Zexion was sure he'd get into trouble or something…

But at another time, when it wasn't all about-

_I will cease this train of thought now-_

"_Please, smile? Just once?"_

Unwittingly, Zexion smiles for the faraway (_more than a_) friend.

* * *

><p>A.N. - thanks for answering to what I asked last time: satheroth335 and Savoring. Happiness :) And another round of thanks to sonicdisney for reviewing as well! *Applause*<p>

Thanks for reading, and see you around!


	83. 083 Secret Admirer

The 'object' of Naminé's paintings wasn't supposed to know she was his secret admirer of sorts. Or be, well, that direct about it.

Zexion, as he says his name is, now perches on one of the small chairs strewn across Naminé's studio and his blue-grey eyes just roam around the room when not sneaking a glance in her direction from under the fringe of hair.

She later finds out that he was her 'secret admirer' of sorts as well – another person who thought that her art was beautiful and all that…

And doesn't she mind if he drops by tomorrow just to chat, please?

Naminé doesn't miss that odd expression in his face when she assents with no further discussion.


	84. 084 Someone has a crush on you

Replica did notice most of the things around the castle – Sora's movements, what the members of the Organization did and their whereabouts. Most of all, he focused on Naminé, the hauntingly sweet girl languishing in the topmost room…

And a 'regular' visitor, who _shouldn't_ have been there, _shouldn't_ have managed to snake his way into Naminé's embrace with 'loving' words and that sly smile. _Zexion shouldn't have_ a,_ a crush_ on his girl, much less be (no, it _isn't_) requited.

Well, Naminé will be back with him soon, and happy…

But, she is smiling _so much_ in Zexion's arms right now...


	85. 085 Teenager

Everyone thought that just one teenager rampaging around Oblivion would've been as disastrous as it sounded, even with ubiquitous schemes guiding his movements.

It rapidly devolved into insanity: another of the heroes, a confused puppet, and two Nobodies acting outright queer.

Zexion can recall at times the various comments: quit reacting to Naminé, get back to work, no feelings there… the blue of her eyes, the exact tone of her voice.

Naminé can recall much the same things, and the tingling feel of Zexion's smile or the way she wants to keep saying anything to him.

Ah well – just the perfect way to really study the teenagers. Even if those two are fakes.


	86. 086 Moonlight

There was a certain charm to the moonlight that appealed to all Nobodies. The promise of that heart, the soft glow of murdered lights, the brief seconds of remembrance for a single emotion…

Zexion, when glancing at the moonlight, used to just think about the insufficient light to read by. Now, chained to Oblivion's agenda, the moonlight has changed meaning.

Moonlight now means freedom, means finally being able to care for Naminé, means waking up to a silver-white glow on her pale hair making her look like a living ghost…

Zexion would like to bring _their_ moon down to her.


	87. 087 Lust

Ah, lust. That odd, nearly-an-emotion that Nobodies didn't need to pretend to feel – coming in all variants: wanderlust, bloodlust, you-name-it…

And then, there was that wanderlust that Naminé had – that almost-wish to just travel where the wind may take her.

Zexion wanted just to _follow_ her, even if the universe usually held little appeal for him. To be able to see those rare radiant smiles of hers, and to keep the emotional lechers at a healthy bay.

That he didn't bother with actual lust mattered little… but making her wish enjoyable certainly did. Although, her dress was _maybe_ on the short side…

_I refuse to admit I'm considering giving her my cloak now._


	88. 088 Not Sure Why

I'm not sure why I keep looking upwards as of late. Neither am I sure about why all of my data keeps getting little names scribbled on, all beginning with an 'N' and just staring at me from a white background which I wouldn't have thought I'd be wanting to see instead of neat rows of information.

I'm not sure why every time it's harder to tear myself from 'guard duty', even if I do nothing more than sit and speak and look at the ghost in white…

No, I do know. I know very well why the smile won't leave.

But it shouldn't be possible.


	89. 089 Devil

Naminé was having a hard time convincing the small boy clinging to her leg that there were effectively no devils and other miscellaneous evil spirits waiting in his somewhat cluttered room.

Much more when some objects kept acting up and dragging themselves along small dances over shelves and desks. So, armed with a flashlight and infinite patience, Naminé opened up the door…

To be met by a wildly-grinning Zexion, black-cloak and all, and the laughter of the small boy who got her into this mess. At least, her husband has the decency to help her up from the floor after she crashed down, and the child hands her the flashlight back, both wearing 'apologetic' smiles.

_The devils._


	90. 090 Tea

A.N. – Final countdown from here on in! So, here we go… _ten!_

* * *

><p>There was something comforting about tea. The regularity – a certain hour each day, spent in the quiet swirls of scent and just watching the world cease its hysterical rush for a minute, everything fading to the soft white of to-be-filled pages and amiable silence.<p>

No, not that last one. Because tea meant Naminé was also free for a spot or so of time, meant Zexion could be persuaded to drop the extensive theories…

_Tea_ was something that Naminé associated with _heart_ – she got to say what she thought of the slate-haired illusionist, and fake-dismiss it all with the sip of warmth.

_Now, only to make those brief lulls in repose last…_


	91. 091 Garden

There was an old saying, in some world or other, about the garden of some lord being immense in variety…

Well, luckily that lord had no relation to their own ruler of Oblivion. And whichever garden mentioned was purely metaphysical, as Zexion assumed – his blanched realm lacking in the scent of blooms and the rainbow of petals.

Only white, clear white with a ghost of sunlight-yellow which his flower had never seen, and blue too bright to be authentic. A little Naminé, tracing pencil-petals into page-gardens with a soft smile and a faded sweet scent.

Zexion didn't fool himself thinking it was a flower – Naminé wouldn't appreciate that. No flower liked to be thought of in that way, after all…

Zexion only cared about the luck he had to stumble upon her.

* * *

><p>A.N. – nine to the end…<p> 


	92. 092 Flowers

Naminé remembers painting flowers over and over in art school, the boring figures showcasing their fragile beauty to nothing. Or the flowers in her head at night, hurrying her into waking up to escape the dull static.

But even with her dislike towards them, Naminé is a girl. Not the most feminine one, but a romantic at heart…

And it doesn't matter to her that the flowers that Zexion brought her this time are slightly wilted and that the colors clash. It doesn't matter that a couple petals speckle his suit with color, or that she honestly thinks he could've brought something else.

Because she didn't really think Zexion would do such a thing.

* * *

><p>A.N. – eight…!<p> 


	93. 093 Breathing

Zexion was quite attached to breathing. Even when in a heartless state breathing was just a confusing motion carried forwards from when they had a pulse.

Long story short, Zexion liked being able to breathe. And to hold his breath back, when Naminé would smile or wave or just notice when something had happened and called him out on it.

Or even, just when she was not aware, to make her gasp out his name. To feel a sharp intake of air against him when he has held her close for too long.

He likes her breathing better when he can almost control it… even when he can be affected by her right back. And the last can even _not_ bother him in these situations.

* * *

><p>A.N. – seven!<p> 


	94. 094 Smile

Naminé was _somewhat_ accustomed to smiles. Not that they were particularly _nice_: predatory smirks or the soft smug tilt of lips that ghosts wear when what they plan is coming along well; fiery grins that can unsettle or soothe, and the dreamy smiles of those being charmed to doom.

So Zexion's _lack_ of smiles is astounding to her. _Utter_ _lack_ – no playful gleam to his eyes, no trill to his monotone tone…

Until he _does_ smile, once; what passed for a genuine smile, even when she realized that the Schemer title was well-earned with that expression.

Naminé doesn't really care.

* * *

><p>A.N. – six!<p>

On other notes, thanks to sonicdisney for the reviews :) And exams are starting now, so I apologize if I miss an update (I'll try not to, though!)


	95. 095 Legs

This was _supposed_ to be the last leg of her journey. The colored-in outdoors were there, lingering at the tip of her pale fingers, and her time in Oblivion fading to… well, itself.

And Zexion _wasn't supposed to_, supposed to…

Naminé didn't want to go through this alone. Journeys don't end alone, your companion vanishing in those last…

Naminé tried proving that all this was just one of those illusions that he was so fond of doing – she'll turn the corner, _and there_ he'll be, reading as always with that frown on his face.

But, now in the last leg of her journey…

Naminé realized she 'won' alone.

* * *

><p>A.N. – Five! And tangential links to the prompt… I love you so….<p>

Thanks for reading, and see you around!


	96. 096 Unicorn

It was odd, listening to Zexion speak about unicorns and fairies and other beings of fantasy that he'd spend hours upon hours of each day denying.

But he couldn't do that to the small child sitting on his lap with wide eyes from under a stubborn fringe that was surely a genetic trait (or so he _claimed_, ever the scientist).

And Naminé would always hover just at the corner of his vision, not prominent enough for him to _really_ catch sight of her beyond the fantasy…

But he _always_ told the child about the fairy princess with blonde hair and clad in white, frolicking in the story.

* * *

><p>A.N. - Four!<p> 


	97. 097 Wonderland

Zexion was accustomed to wonderlands. In the same way scientists are accustomed to numbers or artists to colors – wonderlands were a part of his work, the core illusions. But never his own, never for the heartless boy – there were no wonderlands without wonder.

Or maybe there were – the dusty laboratories had been a preferred haven and the other…

The other was a pristine room, with a single soul-like girl claiming sanctuary. And the wonderland wasn't the bleak place. Although it had something to do with it.

Wonderland was having Naminé care for him, and being able to echo something back.

A.N. – three, and finals are very nearly over as well…

Hehe, they've gone well. Sonicdisney: *hug* thanks for the reviews!

And see you all around soon!


	98. 098 Who are you?

Naminé didn't know most of those who ruled the castle, much less the slip of a man with blue hair, absorbed in books.

But she was fairly certain he knew her. All knew about the captive here.

So when she asks 'Who are you?' Naminé expects a biting remark like those previous. Not a curt hello, not an introduction…

His name is Zexion, she finds out. He is the kind one, Naminé knows.

Although she never really knew much about Zexion, save…

Save the fact that, as an illusionist, he'd follow at times with her fantasies. Even when they were hollow for him.

But not for Naminé.

* * *

><p>A.N. – two~<p> 


	99. 099 Doll

The project was a doll, born solely of the patches and scraps of Sora's memories fluttering forlorn. An off-shoot of Naminé's work, of sorts.

Zexion was in on the project, manipulating and weaving all into 'life'…

The doll was of memory – Naminé's by some contrived proxy. She looked nothing like the witch-girl though – raven hair, more of a fighter's sleek form. Her eyes were to be indigo, a memory-color.

_Were._ Zexion made them blue – who'd care or notice?

He misses the fact that, by some equally altered data…

There really wasn't _that_ much black in Sora's memory. But what Naminé did passed unseen, as always.

Who'd care that she _sort of failed_ with blue?

* * *

><p><em>A.N.<em> – _one…!_

A bit of an explanation, because it's sort of due here… Zexion's hair is black in the manga, ergo the bit with the colors… also, I probably just screwed around with 'official' material… sorry?

Hoped that you liked it, and see you around!


	100. 100 End

It ends, as all things do, not with a bang or even a whimper. Zexion fades off into the shadows he almost-existed in, prey to a blade's kiss and treason. Naminé falls so much later, into the light that Zexion used to tell her they didn't have.

Naminé did, after all. And light, such an emotional thing…

She gets to see them together all the time, and to really see his death through a reflection. It hurts, but not as bad as she thought it would've.

They were ever the pretenders…

But she notices that the last, the very last 'I love you' was mutual.

Fake, but binding enough.

Don't worry, I'll see you soon… I promise.

* * *

><p>A.N. – zero~<p>

It's been a wild, _wild_ trip here, and I can't thank you guys enough for reading and reviewing so constantly! *hugs* I never really expected that, so… props to you all : )

And, because I'm a bit of a nut for these… stats!

Someone killed off in the chapter: 10

AU's: 27

Times gone over the limit… probably all of them, maybe 95, 96? ... *guilty*

And… that's it :) Very many thanks again, extra thanks to _Sonicdisney_ and _Savoring. Happiness_ (for being pretty much always there), and I'll be hopefully seeing you around!

Mirae


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